“Would you allow me, please, to make a humble suggestion, Brother Commander?”
“Certainly,” Clutch said. But humble wasn’t a word he could associate with the Princess commanding the Southerners. Her tall composure and casual competence suggested an immense inner pride. Lacking even a flicker of irony or sentiment, she was also, somehow, without the attitude one would expect to occupy the places of these vain emotions in her personality, namely sincerity. Hala was neither sincere nor insincere. She was critical, she was romantic, but she was not in the least sincere, at least not as far as he could discern. Perhaps the word courteous applied to her.
“Thank you, Brother. I am thinking – my fighters are fleet-footed and quick to pursue the racists. Perhaps they should run ahead and bring to quarter the hate-filled Oppressor.”
“That is an excellent suggestion.”
“Thank you, Brother. In this circumstance, it may not be clumsy of me to observe that your soldiery might enjoy what they are most suited to do – that is, re-possess the riverbank.”
“Yes. Let’s do that. But I think I should guard the railway bridge so that we have a means of escape, if needed.” He felt a warmth rise up from his toes each time she spoke. He really was beginning to feel like her kin. “Tell me, Sister. What does the name Hala mean?”
“Ah! It is an ancient name among my people. It means moonglow.”
“How beautiful. To think that you move like a moonbeam over dark ground.”
“No, I beg to correct you. Not beam like the Sun has a ray. Rather, the light that the Moon makes just for herself. Her … radiance.”
“Her halo,” Clutch said.
“Yes, that is it. Her halo.”
“So … when our people say hallelujah! when they are glad, they are actually praising the moon.”
Two raccoons from different parts of the Earth looked up at the same Moon.
“Yes, Brother. Peoples have more semblances than differences between them. But since we enjoy a further semblance ourselves in being commanders, may I ask, in return, what your name is?”
“It’s Clutch.”
“Clutch? Is that all?”
“Yes.”
“But what does it mean?”
“Clutch means to grasp something solid and hang on.”